


It's Not Supposed to Rain In Hawaii

by NephilimEQ



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Complete, Crossover, Ex-Boyfriends, Fluff, Getting Together, Healthy Relationships, Idiots in Love, Implied Future McDanno, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Old Friends, SO MUCH SARCASM, still friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 15:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: John drags Rodney onto a much needed vacation. Rodney complains, but John doesn't care. They head off to Hawaii, the ultimate destination for relaxation...where John runs into an old friend, which brings up new problems. And a possible solution to a problem he never knew he had.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 14
Kudos: 155
Collections: Stargate Atlantis Secret Santa 2019





	It's Not Supposed to Rain In Hawaii

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Antares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/gifts).

> So excited that I got to write this for one of my favorite reviewers!! Happy Secret Santa, Antares!!

**Its Not Supposed to Rain in Hawaii**

“It’s called a vacation, Rodney,” Sheppard drawled as he threw another shirt into his bag. They were earth-side for the first time in over a year, and John was eager to get out onto some waves. He’d just gotten the memo from Woolsey that all personnel were being given three weeks of paid leave. And he was taking _advantage_ of it. “I haven’t seen an actual beach in forever, and if anyone needs a vacation, it’s you…”

He looked up and Rodney had his arms crossed in front of his chest, one eyebrow arched imperiously at him.

“For your information, I don’t _need_ a vacation, and if I go, then who’s going to keep an eye on the new ZedPM that we just got from SG1, hmm? Zelenka? I don’t think so,” he snarked and John rolled his eyes.

Feeling equal parts annoyed and exasperated, he snapped back at him, with steel in his tone, “Atlantis will survive for three weeks without you, McKay, so pack your damn bags, or I’ll pack them for you!”

That seemed to do the trick.

\--

Rodney, of course, complained for most of the flight to the Kona International Airport (despite the fact that they were in first class), while John tried to keep from ripping open the emergency door and throwing the scientist headfirst out of the airplane. He loved the man, so help him, but if he gave him one more statistic on plane crashes or weather phenomena over the Pacific, he would not be responsible for his actions.

As soon as they landed, John threw on his sunglasses (despite it being nearly eight at night), hitched his bag over his shoulder, threw Rodney’s bag at his chest, and then dragged Rodney to the rentals. When they arrived, he glanced at the tanned gentleman behind the counter and simply said, “Sheppard,” and the man smiled and handed him a set of keys, and Rodney was immediately suspicious.

“Hold on, those don’t look the usual car keys…John, what did you rent?”

He grinned. They turned a corner.

“Oh…oh no, no!”

John shrugged his bag further up his shoulder and said, “What? That’s all you have to say? No statistics on how these things are deathtraps and an accident just waiting to happen?” He glanced back at Rodney, but he stood there, stone faced, and John chuckled and said reassuringly, “I’ve been riding these things for my entire life, McKay. Just strap your bag to the back and get on. Promise I’ll get us to the hotel in one piece,” he added with a sincere smile.

Rodney slowly approached the motorcycle and poked at the leather seat with one finger, and then said, “Haven’t been on one of these since high school,” and John’s eyebrow arched and he remarked, “Wait, you’re telling me that you’ve actually _ridden_ on a motorcycle before, McKay?”

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes as he retorted, “I used to drive it, actually, Sheppard. Fixed up an old Harley my junior year of high school and drove it my whole senior year…”

John sensed a story, so he gently prodded him as he attached his own bag to the back of the bike, “What happened?

“I, uh,” he started, hesitated, and then finally admitted, “I wiped out pretty bad. Broke my collarbone in two places and fractured my tibia. Couple cracked ribs. So…my parents took it away from me, and I haven’t ridden since…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

John slowly pulled back from attaching his bag and said, “Well, I promise I’ll get us there safely. Just…you trust me, don’t you, McKay?” Rodney nodded, and John added, “Good. Now, go ahead and put your bag on and get on behind me. They even provided helmets,” he said, lifting them off from where they’d been secured on the handlebars and handing him one.

Rodney nodded.

The ride over was uneventful. Well, that wasn’t _entirely_ accurate. For Rodney, it might have been, but for John it had been twenty-five minutes of him telling his dick to shut up as Rodney’s arms tightened on his waist as they took the turns. What the _hell_ had he been thinking in renting a motorcycle? Luckily, they wouldn’t be using it too often as most everything they would be doing over the next few weeks would be in walking distance. Thank god.

The instant they pulled up and John handed his keys to the valet, Rodney said, “Please tell me you got two rooms,” and John rolled his eyes and answered, “Yes, McKay, I got us two rooms. We don’t have to share everything on this trip,” and Rodney looked relieved.

He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he took it in stride and checked them both in without any fuss.

As soon as he was alone in his room, he popped the top button of his jeans and let out a small sigh of relief. He hadn’t entirely thought his plan through of having Rodney on his vacation with him. He’d just argued the fact that if they went together, they could save money and have an easier time of syncing up their schedules for returning back to Atlantis.

He had completely forgotten about factoring his hormones into the equation.

For a moment, John considered going into the bathroom to…_relieve_ himself, in a manner of speaking, but then there was a sharp rap on the door that adjoined their suites, and Rodney’s voice came through the door, “Hey, wanna go check out the observatory? I have special access to the telescope and there’s supposed to a meteor shower tonight,” he added, sounding distracted, and John could see him in his mind’s eye staring down at his phone in one hand, while the other hand hovered absentmindedly over the door where he’d just knocked.

The debate in his head was short and sweet. Go to his bathroom, jack one off thinking of Rodney, and then spend the rest of the evening alone in his room? Or actually spend the evening with Rodney doing something that they would both enjoy?

“Sounds good,” he called back over, reaching for his bag to change out of his clothes, into something that he hadn’t been in for the last ten hours. “Lemme change first,” he asked, and Rodney replied, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that, too. Meet up in ten?”

John nodded, forgetting that Rodney couldn’t see him, but it didn’t seem to matter, because he could hear him walk away from the door as if he had. The air force colonel didn’t like to think on it too much, but he was slightly freaked at how well the two of them knew each other. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind as he shoved his legs into clean jeans, and then threw on his white short-sleeved button-down that he only saved for special occasions.

A few minutes later there came another tap at the door and Rodney’s voice, saying, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Without even bothering to check, Rodney walked through the door and John just about swallowed his tongue. Sure, he was vaguely aware of the fact that over the years the scientist had changed from being the last person that anyone would call athletic to someone who could handle a P-90, as well as keep up with the rest of the team at a steady run for nearly three miles, but he’d never seen the evidence of it so clearly laid out in front of him before.

Instead of his usually baggy clothes, Rodney was wearing shorts and a fitted t-shirt. And not Bermuda shorts, that would hang shapelessly down to his knees, oh no. Instead, he wore tailored khaki shorts that hung just below mid-thigh and showed off surprisingly toned legs. His dark blue shirt brought not only attention to his eyes, but it also clung enticingly around the curl of a bicep. And he even wore leather sandals.

John suddenly realized he was staring and quickly tried to cover it up with, “Didn’t know you even owned shorts, McKay,” but then realized that the scientist was barely paying any attention to him, too focused on his phone, just as John had envisioned earlier.

Sounding annoyed, Rodney answered with his eyes still glued to his phone, “Yes, I own shorts, now can we get going? If we go now, we can get dinner at the observatory restaurant before it closes. I’m starving.”

He simply nodded and said, “Yeah, sure. Let’s go,” and they walked to elevators and were out of the hotel.

As soon as they’d stepped out onto the street, John could see the observatory and saw that it was more than a fifteen-minute walk. At least thirty minutes, but nothing more than they could handle. However, it slowly dawned on him as they started in that direction, that Rodney had planned this ahead of time, despite all of his complaining during the trip, and when they were about ten minutes away, John finally said something.

“Rodney,” he said cautiously, “You wouldn’t happened to have, say, oh, I don’t know, _planned_ this? I mean, it seems pretty convenient that we just _happen_ to be going on vacation to the one place that has one of the best telescopes in the world and that you just _happen_ to have access to it?”

McKay suddenly stopped in his tracks and John stopped, as well, giving him a look, levelling his eyes at him.

Looking embarrassed, Rodney replied, “Well…okay. Maybe I pulled something up on my phone while we were on the plane and e-mailed an old colleague of mine at the observatory to see if we could get some time on the telescope, but it’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane! I don’t…I don’t exactly feel like I belong here, on earth, anymore. Not like I ever fit in in the first place,” he muttered under his breath and John winced at hearing his words, but also completely understood.

“Hey, I get it,” he said, reaching out a hand and clapping him on the shoulder, withholding the impulse to drag him into a hug. “I feel pretty damn useless, here, too. Pegasus has kinda become my home, now, and I still feel like we should be back there, helping them to fight against what’s left of the Wraith, instead of lounging here on earth,” he explained and Rodney’s shoulders slowly untensed.

John squeezed his shoulder and added, “C’mon, let’s get going. Wouldn’t want you to not get dinner. You’re mean when you’re hungry,” and Rodney snorted.

“According to my sister, I’m always mean,” and John grinned and said, without even thinking about it, “Yeah, well, she doesn’t know you like I do.”

The instant he said it, he realized how it sounded, and was about to open his mouth and correct himself, but Rodney suddenly cut him off before he could say a word and agreed with him, saying, “You’ve got a point. We’ve only been around each other every day for seven years straight. That’s more than she and I ever spent together. It’s about…”

His voice trailed off as he tried to do the math and John smugly said, before he could get to the answer, “Two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days. Not including the past six weeks,” he added with a grin, “Which puts us at two thousand five hundred and ninety-seven days.”

Rodney rolled his eyes, but said fondly as they started walking again, “Could have been in MENSA…”

Just as the two of them arrived at the conservatory, however, they noticed police tape around a part of the attached museum. It didn’t look like it was going to interfere with their plans, so with a glance at each other they silently agreed to walk on past it.

But just as they were about to walk into the conservatory, on the far side of the yellow tape, a familiar voice called out to John, “Sheppard? John Sheppard, is that you?”

He turned and was taken aback as he saw a face in front of him that he hadn’t seen since his freshman year of college.

Danny Williams.

The man ducked under the crime tape and walked up to him, arm out and pulled him into a quick one-armed hug and pat on the back and then pulled back and said, “Holy shit, as I live and breathe, I thought you were dead, man!” and John couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It was a reaction he’d only just started getting used to over the past couple of weeks of being back home.

“Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint,” he quipped back at him, causing the man to laugh.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Danny asked, and John answered, “Vacation. We both got three weeks, so we’re killing it here on the big island. Catch some sun, some waves,” he motioned towards the observatory behind him, “And some stars.”

“Good place to do all three,” Danny observed, and then quickly answered the question John hadn’t asked but was implied, “I worked as a detective in Jersey, just like I said I would, got married, had a kid…and then the wife moved here, took the kid with her, so we’re getting divorced and I’m tryin’ to get joint custody…but you don’t need to know all that,” he said, brushing it off like it didn’t matter, and then instead said, “God, what, it’s been…what, twenty years?”, but John quickly corrected him, “Twenty-three, actually,” to which Rodney rolled his eyes, but John just continued to grin as Danny said, “You always had a damn good head for numbers. Annoyed the hell out of me, but always made us good money at the poker table…”

Rodney looked up from his phone and seemed to perk up as he asked, “Are you telling me mister morality, here, used to _hustle_ poker games?”

Danny laughed, shoved his hands into his front pockets and said, “Oh, you don’t know the _half_ of it, man…he used to get the two of us into so much trouble, it was amazing we weren’t kicked out freshman year,” and John rolled his eyes and defended himself with, “Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure that you were at _least_ half responsible for everything that happened. I mean, this guy,” he explained to Rodney, pointing a thumb at the detective, “Was the one who would convince me that it was a good idea in the first place to head to Jersey to hustle rich wives out of their pocket money, ignoring the fact that they were wives of less-than-reputable men, if you know what I’m saying,” and Rodney snorted.

“Oh, sure, but knowing you, you convinced him it was okay to stay for at _least_ one hand more than you should have,” and Danny laughed and clapped a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and said, “I like this guy, Sheppard! Who is he?”

Rodney extended his hand.

“Dr. Rodney McKay, pleased to meet you,” he introduced himself, sounding annoyed as he did so, saving John the trouble, and Danny nodded.

“You too, McKay,” and then a voice shouted over to them, “Hey, Danno! You gonna get over here and do your job or are you going to keep flirting with those two?” and Danny chuckled and said, “And that would be my slave driver, Detective McGarrett.”

Just as he said his name, his partner showed up next to him and the first thing John noticed was how he stood. The man was ex-navy, most likely a marine, from the way that he carried himself.

“Hey, are these two witnesses?” he asked, and Danny shook his head and said, “No, no. Steve, this is my old freshman college roommate, John Sheppard. John Sheppard, this is my partner, Detective Steve McGarrett,” and they both reached out and shook the other’s hand, John noticing the subtle way that the man squeezed his hand slightly tighter than he needed to. He didn’t say a word, didn’t try to give into the territorial act, and instead just smiled warmly and replied, “Nice to meet you, McGarrett.”

They dropped hands and John couldn’t help but ask, “So, what exactly is going on here?”

Danny replied, “Murder, it looks like. An employee at the museum. We’re looking into it,” and Rodney looked startled at that, and looked up from his phone, where he had been glancing down at it, yet again, and said, “Murder? That sounds…not good.”

“It never is,” said McGarrett, and then, not knowing why the hell he was asking, John blurted out, “Maybe we can help? We’re both on leave from Cheyenne Mountain, but--”

“Cheyenne Mountain?” interrupted the marine and then said, “You two are Air Force.”

Rodney scoffed and said, “No, oh no, just him._ I_ am strictly a scientist. _Dr._ Rodney McKay, to be exact. I mean, sure, I can shoot a gun and have done my fair share of running from bullets, but no. He’s the military one,” he said, pointing at John, and John rolled his eyes and shot a look in Rodney’s direction, glaring as he ran off at the mouth, sharing more information than he should have.

He seemed to get the hint and stopped talking. Sheppard took over for him.

“Strictly speaking, we can’t actually talk about our work, but let’s just say that we have some experience in getting to the bottom of things pretty quickly. If you need an extra pair of eyes or anything…”

He let the suggestion drift, and was surprised when Steve, who was obviously the boss, shrugged and said, “What the hell, an extra pair of eyes couldn’t hurt.” He lifted up the tape and motioned towards them with his other hand. “Come on and take a look.”

The two of them ducked under the tape and followed, and Rodney said to him as they followed the two detectives, “Seriously? I thought that you were the one who insisted that we were on _vacation,_” to which John replied from the corner of his mouth, “It’s called lending a hand, McKay. Besides, I doubt this’ll take long,” and Rodney rolled his eyes, again.

John ignored him as he stepped towards the crime scene, seeing a man in a janitor’s uniform laying on the floor, spread eagled, blood spread beneath his head, ladder askew nearby.

Barely glancing over the scene, Rodney, who was still standing behind him, suddenly said, “This is obviously an accident, not a murder. An accident.”

John ground his back teeth, and then growled out warningly, “Rodney,” but Danny looked back at him and asked, “What makes you say that?” and Rodney snorted, yet again.

“Well, look at the scene and look at what it’s missing. In order for this to have been a murder, there needs to be obvious evidence of a second person, which there isn’t,” and Steve looked like he was about to say something, but Rodney plowed on. “Despite the supposed preponderance of evidence that I am certain that you were just about to tell me about, it is entirely circumstantial, whereas the smudged fingerprints on the underside of that loose sconce next to the painting up there on the wall that you will find are _not_ circumstantial, and will tell you that he tried to grab at it before he fell. Because of the angle of how the ladder fell onto its side, I can easily calculate where it stood and tell you with exact certainty that he overextended on his balance while he was cleaning and, as he slipped, he reached for the first thing he could find. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t strong enough for his overweight bearing, plus he had leftover silver wax on his fingers, and so he slipped and fell and died. Considering his height, weight, and the velocity, it was fairly instantaneous. I’d check his hands for grayish black stains around the fingers and a highly odd, chemical smell. Silver wax.”

All three of them stared at him, John slightly annoyed but amused, whereas the other two looked fairly taken aback. He glared at Rodney, but the man just stared right back at him and smirked, and John knew that he’d said what he’d said for three reasons. One, he was annoyed that they were running late, two, he wanted to show off just how smart he was, and three…well, three was the fact that he was starving and just wanted to eat. He always got pissy when he was hungry.

Danny looked at Rodney and then glanced over his shoulder at Steve, and then finally looked at John and asked, “Is this guy for real?” and John replied in a low drawl, “Unfortunately, yes, and he’s right, like…almost ninety-nine percent of the time. I’d just do what he says,” he admitted under his breath.

Danny walked over to the body, and then tugged on a glove as he bent down and lifted a hand towards him. He then looked up and said, “Well, whaddaya know,” in that familiar Jersey drawl that John hadn’t heard in years and hadn’t realized that he’d missed.

“Hey, Steve, might wanna take a look at that wall sconce,” he said from his position next to the body, and the other man glanced over at McKay with a skeptic look in his eye, but did as his partner asked and walked over to the wall and shone his flashlight up at the brass fixture. His eyebrow shot up.

“Steve?”

Sounding equally irritated and impressed, a tone that John was familiar with people who weren’t used to dealing with McKay, he answered, “Yep. Smudged fingerprints, looks like the same substance that was on his fingers, and the screw’s loose, too.” He reached up, on his toes, and was just able to touch the edge. “No signs of tampering, just general wear and tear of old hardware,” he observed and then dropped back to his heels and turned to face Rodney, briefly shining the light in his eyes and said, “Nice work, _Dr._ McKay,” and Rodney winced and turned his head away and John chuckled under his breath.

Apparently, the marine _did_ know how to deal with men like Rodney.

Danny stood up and walked back over to them, pulling off his glove, and then reached out and shook each of their hands and said, “You two should have your own service. Sheppard and McKay: we solve crimes in ten minutes or less. Sure would make my job easier,” and John laughed and shook his head and quipped, “Nah, too boring,” and Danny chuckled and said, “I know you can’t talk about it, but you two want to meet us for dinner some night this week? Catch up on old times?”

John hesitated for a moment, remembering _exactly_ what their times were like in college together…but decided to take the risk. Danny had been one of the few people that he’d regretted not keeping in touch with over the years, and it would be nice to have _some_thing connecting him back to earth.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good,” he answered, and Danny grinned and said, “Great! I’ll see you two, say…tomorrow night? Seven o’clock?”

John nodded and said, “We should probably tell you where we’re staying,” but Danny cut him off with a grin and said, “It’s obvious you didn’t bring a car, since you both seemed out of breath. Not used to the tropical heat, I assume, so you walked. Only hotel within walking distance of Mauna Kea is about a thirty-minute walk that way,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. He then smiled and said, “I’m a detective for a living, Sheppard. I know how to do my job.”

John laughed and waved him off and said, “Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. We’ll see you in the lobby at the hotel?”

“Sounds good,” Danny replied, and then said, pointing towards Rodney, who had already ducked back under the tape and was already walking back towards the observatory, “Might wanna catch up with your boyfriend. Hope we didn’t ruin your date,” and before John could correct him, he turned and headed back to the rest of the crime scene, leaving him still standing on the inside of the crime scene.

Boyfriend? Date? When had he…oh god. He thought back to how he’d introduced Rodney. They were on vacation. Together. Sun, surf…and stars. Oh, god, it sounded like a romantic getaway and he felt like an idiot for not seeing it before.

Groaning under his breath, he quickly took off after Rodney and caught him just as he finished getting a table for the two of them.

As they settled into a booth, right after the waitress took their drink orders, John said, “Hey…back there. About Danny—”

“How come you’ve never mentioned him before?” Rodney asked, cutting him off and biting into a roll at the same time. “You two certainly seemed chummy, to say the least. If you two were so close, why haven’t you stayed in touch? I mean, it’s not like you were doing secret missions back then, so you could have, you know,” and John didn’t know what to say.

How the hell was he supposed to explain that Danny was an ex-boyfriend who was his first boyfriend and _only _ex_-_boyfriend that he’d ever had? How was he supposed to explain the panic he’d gone through after they’d separated, even though it had been completely amicable? Anything he said would have him outing himself and he wasn’t ready for that.

Not just yet, anyway.

He gaped for a moment…and then answered, “We just lost touch. I dropped out and went to the academy right before sophomore year and…yeah. We lost touch.”

Luckily, Rodney seemed to accept his answer and as soon as the waitress was back with their drinks, went ahead and ordered for both of them, ignoring John’s glare, even though he was secretly pleased that Rodney remembered how he liked his burgers.

“Really taking the reins tonight, aren’t we, McKay,” he commented, and Rodney made a sound.

“Ugh, look, I just want to see this meteor shower and I’m not going to do so on an empty stomach, so if you could please just refrain from making any remarks, it would be appreciated. Now, apparently, we have a double date with the dynamic detective duo tomorrow night, and you didn’t even bother to ask if I had any plans for us?”

At that, John’s eyebrow shot up and he repeated, “You’re telling me that you made _plans_ for us? Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure this is a vacation and we can each do whatever we want, so why are you getting on my case about saying yes to one thing--”

“Because it’s _our_ vacation, you dumbass,” he snapped at him before John could finish, and he didn’t know what to say to that. “I mean, _you’re_ the one that dragged me out here, so I figured you didn’t want to be alone, but the two of us don’t have a lot of activities in common, so I then figured that you were planning on spending, at _most,_ half of the time together. There are at least six major celestial events happening over the next three weeks, and I was planning on us making it to every single one of them. It’s the _only_ thing that I figured we’d be doing together, besides the occasional meal. I mean,” he added, gesturing towards him with a roll-filled hand, “I figured you’d be off surfing and going to bars and, and…going all Kirk while away from base. You know, those kinds of things. I’ll be mainly catching up on journals and trying to finish my research paper so I can get back into decent standing in the scientific community and not have to listen to Bill and Neil continue to make fun of my lack of publishing, with some obscenely long naps thrown in for good measure.”

When he was finally done with his rant, John just stared at him…and then said, “Wait, you’re telling me that you were planning on spending most of your vacation _working_…on a _research paper?”_

Rodney rolled his eyes and said as he chewed on a bit of his roll, “It’s not work when I know that it’s lightyears ahead of what those charlatans could even _hope_ to conceive, while still maintaining full secrecy on any of our Atlantis projects, and I know that it’ll make them eat their words and have them seething with envy at my brilliance. Oh no, it’s not work at all…it’s sweet, sweet revenge.”

John gave him a look, one eyebrow arched, and then commented, “You have a very strange concept of revenge, McKay,” and Rodney just shrugged.

“If it means that I’m right, and that those two are miserable, I don’t care what it takes: I _am_ finishing that paper.”

He opened his mouth to say something more, but their food arrived, so he put the thought to the side and instead dug into his food. As they finished their meal, he saw Rodney checking his watch every few seconds and he tried not to smile.

“Don’t wanna be late, huh, McKay?”

He nodded.

“Yep. This is the first meteor shower of this kind in over a century and I’m not gonna miss it. C’mon,” he said, wiping his mouth and getting up from the table, grabbing one more french fry from his plate as he did, and John just shook his head and left two twenties with a note that said ‘keep the change’, and got up and trailed after him into the main part of the observatory.

As soon as they walked in, John saw Rodney’s entire demeanor change. He went from overbearing, arrogant, genius scientist to a bright-eyed little kid in a span of seconds as they approached the best telescope in the world. John was just as impressed as Rodney was, but hid it better. However, he watched with a small amused smile as Rodney approached it with wide eyes and wriggling, impatient fingers, that he knew were dying to get their hands on the dial and turn it to the night sky above them.

A female voice from a darkened part of the room said, “Dr. McKay, so good to see you! I’ve already put in your log-in code, so all you have to do is hit enter-alt-escape when you’re done with your session and you’re all good to go.”

She stepped out of the shadows and approached them with a warm smile on her face, brown hair brushing her shoulders and framing sparkling bright green eyes, and John didn’t think he’d ever seen Rodney smile so easily at someone before as he walked over to her and put an almost affectionate hand on her shoulder.

“You are a lifesaver, Elise. Do I owe you anything for the time? Money, a drink…dinner?”

Hold up…was he offering to take her on a date? Right in front of John? He felt something akin to jealousy as she laughed and put a soft hand over his, where it still rested on her shoulder and said, “Not at all, Doctor. You have no idea just how happy I am that you’re here. This is a sight that certainly shouldn’t be missed, and I’m thrilled you wanted to use our telescope to watch it. We don’t get minds like yours here. Never, actually,” she admitted as he dropped his hand from her shoulder.

“Well, I _am_\--”

“The smartest man in two galaxies?” she said, finishing it for him, and John looked at her in surprise, wondering how she knew, but Rodney quickly explained, “John, meet Elise Quill. She was supposed to come with the Atlantis expedition, but came down with pneumonia, so she wasn’t able to come. Of course. The only scientist that I could bear to work with, and she gets stuck on earth! Typical. We keep in touch through Stargate Command, but it’s not enough. Work only ever _really_ gets done in person.”

Elise rolled her eyes, but gave him another fond look and said, “The feeling’s mutual. Whenever Neil visits, I would rather have my eyes gouged out with a spoon. That man thinks he’s god’s gift or something. Bill’s even worse because he thinks he can actually get me to say yes to dinner with him,” she complained, and then said, “You’re the only man I know who has the intellect to back up the arrogance, which is why I adore you, Rodney,” she said cupping his jaw with her fingers, and he visibly preened under her praise.

“Well, yes, of course, I am,” he conceited, and John had finally had enough.

“Okay, well, now that you’ve had your ego stroked, perhaps we can get to the meteor shower? I mean, that _is _why we’re here, isn’t it? It’s not just so you two can flirt, right?”

As if he’d said something funny, Elise burst out laughing and managed to get out between gasps, “Oh…oh god, no! We’re…we’re not flirting!” She took another deep breath and then got out, “Rodney’s never been interested in me that way, even though he _knows_ I’ve had a crush on him ever since he first insulted me.” She snorted and added, “If he said yes, I’d marry him in an instant, but this boy is already taken…”

She tapped her hand on his chest and John was confused when Rodney glared at her.

Elise just winked at him and then walked out of the room, tossing over her shoulder as she went, “You two have fun!”

John felt off balance as she left and Rodney looked uncomfortable…so he decided to bypass the situation altogether by saying, “So…how about that meteor shower?”

Rodney looked relieved and the tension disappeared. He walked over to the massive lens and sat down in the chair. John watched as he fiddled with buttons on the chair and moved a few small dials on the side of the lens that looked as tall as a building, marveling at how easily he maneuvered the massive piece of equipment with such small movements.

Rodney finally looked up.

“Wanna see one of nature’s greatest shows?”

John nodded.

Definitely.

\--

He woke up the next morning at five am, knowing that Rodney was still asleep next door, and pulled on his half wetsuit and then made his way down to the beach. He’d done his own research on the plane and knew that the surf shack opened at five, which was perfect for renting a board and getting in a solid surfing session before Rodney woke up, who he knew wouldn’t be before nine-thirty.

The man, a big burly native Hawaiian, gave him a board and an approving nod, and John eagerly stole out into the early morning waves, paddling quickly past the shorter breakers, out into the six and seven footers.

God, it had been far too long since he’d done this. He’d been wanting to do it on Atlantis, but he didn’t have a board.

_Well, there’s an idea,_ he mused to himself as he paddled up and took his first wave, slicing into it from behind. _I should get a surfboard made while I’m here and take it back to base so I have one when we go back to Pegasus…_

He nearly wiped out at the end of the wave but managed to keep his balance as the thought had unexpectedly hit him. It was the first time he realized that the only future that he saw for himself involved him and Rodney going back to the city and heading back to the Pegasus cluster. He waited for a couple of waves to go by as he mulled the thought over in his mind. All he saw in his future was him and Rodney, along with Ronon and Teyla, back in another galaxy, fighting to make it safe and making more discoveries along the way.

Well…that was certainly a groundbreaking thought.

Ignoring it for the time being, as more surfers were coming out to catch the same waves as John, he focused on surfing, and soon found his old rhythm and couldn’t help but show off a little in front of the group that was mostly teenagers, and a few adults in their early twenties. He may have been forty-two, but he was in his surfing prime.

He felt a small sense of smug satisfaction as he got applause after his last two waves, with a small kick out at the end of the last one, for good measure, and headed back into shore. It was nearly eight and he still needed to shower and get breakfast before dragging Rodney out of bed and convincing him to do stupid tourist stuff for the day, before meeting Danny and Detective McGarrett for dinner that evening. He was going to make it an exhausting day on both of them.

However, he was surprised when he got back to his room and could hear the scientist already awake and typing away on his laptop in the other room. He was practically smashing the keys, and John heard occasional cursing, and he shook his head, still slightly annoyed at the fact that Rodney felt that doing a research paper was relaxing when it sounded more like it was giving him an aneurysm.

John walked over and tapped on the door between them and yelled, “Hey! I can hear your brain short-circuiting from here, McKay! Wanna get some breakfast? And coffee doesn’t count!” he quickly added.

It took a long moment, but he heard him slam the laptop shut and yell back, “Fine! But no--”

“Citrus, yeah, yeah, I know. Now get a shower and throw on some clothes and meet me in fifteen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Rodney was stalking into John’s room without knocking, just like he had the day before, and John walked into the room in just his jeans, still towel-drying his hair, and he startled when he saw him already standing at the end of his bed.

“Jesus, McKay! We need to put a damn bell around your neck,” and Rodney rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes, making jokes at my expense, how delightful. Can we please just get this over with?” he complained, and John noted that he was more whiny than usual.

As they went down to the buffet and got breakfast, he watched Rodney with a concerned eye and saw how he seemed tired and worn out, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to imply that hadn’t slept much the night before, if at all. He bit his lip and kept from saying anything, but still watched him for any sign of imminent collapse.

They didn’t speak a word through breakfast, Rodney mindlessly eating bacon and sausage while cringing each time John took another bite of his pineapple. Normally, John would be making fun of him and his allergy, but considering how the scientist was acting, now didn’t seem like the right time to torment him. Instead, he did as Rodney did and devoured his breakfast, purposely eating more than he normally would, as he’d worked up an appetite from his morning surfing.

Rodney noticed, however, and remarked, “Making up for lost calories?” and John nodded, and Rodney snorted. “Lemme guess. You went out there and ended up showing up a whole bunch of young twenty-somethings who then applauded you like you were the best thing they’d ever seen, and, somehow, in the few weeks that we’re here, you’re going to become a small local celebrity because of your surfing. Am I in the right ballpark, here?”

John ducked his head, slightly embarrassed, but then said, “Hey, I didn’t _ask_ for them to show up, they just did,” and Rodney gave him a look over a piece of biscuit.

“Uh huh, right. Not like you didn’t take advantage of the situation when they _did _show up and then just throw a few more extra moves in for good measure,” he snarked and John turned a stony glare on him.

“Like you didn’t do the same thing last night at the crime scene, Sherlock. Pot and kettle, don’tcha think?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds longer…and then Rodney actually _giggled_ and said, “Alright, fine, we’re both idiots having mid-life crises, who feel the need to validate themselves by showing off around other people. Are we done with the testosterone pissing match, now?”

John snorted that time and drawled, “Yeah, we’re done. Now,” he added, reaching over and stealing one of Rodney’s sausage links, “It looks like you didn’t actually sleep last night, so I’m going to put a hiatus on the plans I had for the day, which was to drag you every tourist trap on the island. Instead, you are going back to the room to sleep and _not_ work on your paper,” he raised a finger to keep him from protesting. “While you _sleep_,” he emphasized a second time, “I am going to go to the pool and swim some laps and maybe do some reading. No arguments.”

Rodney’s glare was back on his face and he argued anyway, much to John’s delight.

“I am _fine,_ I don’t need sleep! What I _need_ is to get more of this paper done. I made a huge breakthrough last night and--”

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” John accused, and at his words the scientist seemed to visibly shrink back into his chair, and he knew that he was right. “Son of a…Rodney! You can’t keep _doing_ this to yourself! Sure, I get that you need to do this to prove something, either to yourself or those idiots that you call colleagues, but we have three weeks here and you can’t expect to do it all in three days! You are going to sleep, even if I have to hold you down in bed myself!”

As soon as he’d said it, he’d wished he could have phrased it differently. Rodney gave him a look, a quirk at the corner of his lips like he was amused at the visual but nodded.

“Alright, fine. I’ll get some sleep.” He threw down his napkin onto the table. “By the way, just so you know, I am entirely _not_ looking forward to dinner tonight,” and John rolled his eyes and replied, “Yeah, well, color me surprised, McKay. I’m just trying to make sure they see the less malicious side of you.”

Rodney nodded as he stood up and then asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of himself, “Uh, hey, about…about last night…did you, did you enjoy the show?”

John smiled.

“Sure did. Can’t really beat seeing a meteor shower in person on the best telescope in the world, McKay,” he admitted, and the scientist smiled.

“Ah. Okay…well, then…good,” was all he said as he quickly left the dining room and headed back up to his room. John stared after him for a moment, even after he’d left, wondering what had just happened. Whatever it was, it was odd. But it was Rodney, so he was kind of used to it.

He shrugged. It didn’t matter, anyway.

He put the thought to the back of his mind and finished his breakfast, eagerly anticipating his day by the pool and finally finishing War and Peace.

Only four chapters to go.

\--

That evening had John banging on the door between their rooms, growling out, “Rodney! So help me, if we’re late to meet them in our own hotel, I will smother you with a pillow and make it look like an accident,” to which Rodney yelled back, “Well, not all of us look like we just stepped off the front cover of GQ, so give me a minute, alright?!”

Okay, so maybe John was slightly irritable because of the slight sunburn he’d gotten on part of his upper back because he hadn’t been able to reach, despite the offer from a very attractive blonde by the pool.

He winced at even the lightest touch of his shirt on the back of his shoulders and it wasn’t helping his mood any.

Feeling a bit bad about yelling at Rodney, he pulled away from their shared door and moved to the mirror, double checking his hair. Still ruffled, the way it normally was, but he didn’t know why Rodney had said that he looked GQ ready. Whenever he looked in the mirror, all he saw was an overgrown teenager with an odd nose, stupid elf-shaped ears, and hair that wouldn’t settle, no matter what kind of product he put in it. Luckily, he hadn’t burned his face, but that still didn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable or self-conscious.

He tugged down on his black sport coat and pulled up on his jeans, adjusting everything to where he felt marginally better about himself.

He stared a moment longer…but then was broken from his reverie by Rodney (once again) barging into the room unannounced, out of breath as he said, “Okay, I’m ready,” and John turned and just about swallowed his tongue for the second time in two days.

Okay, that’s it. If this was how Rodney was going to be the entire vacation, John was _definitely_ going to have to rub more than a few out in his bathroom alone, at some point.

He wore tailored, dark wash jeans, brown boots, a light blue button-down, and a dark gray pinstripe sport coat that only emphasized the width of his shoulders.

God_damn._

John licked his lips, swallowed, and then said, “Yeah, well…good. Then…let’s go,” and managed to get both of them out of his room without throwing Rodney to the bed and having his way with him, which took more self-control on his part than he knew he had.

As soon as they hit the lobby, he spotted Danny, who was wearing what he would tell John later was called ‘island-casual’, and John felt slightly reassured when he saw that he was dressed similarly to the both of them, in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sport coat.

“John, hey!” He reached out and pulled him into an actual hug, and John quickly returned it, while Rodney stood awkwardly nearby. “Steve’s got the car,” Danny explained as he pulled back and they followed him. “Mind you, it’s _my_ car, but he never lets me drive it, so guess I can’t really complain. Oh…no. Wait. Yes, I can!” he quickly added with heavy sarcasm and John snorted. “Because it’s _my_ car, and he _never lets me drive it,_” he repeated and at that point they were right next to the car and Steve heard him and rolled his eyes.

“Danno, just get in and quit your whining. I’m the better driver and you know it. Get in, you two,” he said to John and Rodney, motioning to the back seats. “We’re going to get the best barbecue on the island, tonight, and trust me when I say that you won’t be disappointed.”

At that, Rodney seemed to perk up and he said, “Did you say barbecue?” and John snorted.

However, Steve glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb and asked over his shoulder, “You like barbecue, McKay?” and John quickly answered for him, “Oh, no, he just likes food in general. You know, put it on his plate and he’ll eat it. Anything but citrus,” he added, and at that Danny turned in the passenger’s seat and said, “No citrus? Well, hate to burst your bubble, but we’re on the island of pineapple, so you have to try it.”

“Ah, yes,” replied Rodney, and John could already hear the heavily laced sarcasm. “Because a trip to the morgue was on my list of things to do on vacation. How about I pass on that for now, save it for the end? At least I’ll get a free plane ride home,” and John snorted as he tried to stifle a laugh.

Rodney glared at him.

“Uh, come again?” asked Steve.

Rodney quickly explained, “I’m highly allergic to anything citrus. As long as it’s not on my meat or cooked with it, I should be fine. I don’t care how good my health insurance is, I’m not putting my life on the line, even if it _is _the best barbecue on the island,” and both of the detectives nodded.

“Understood,” said Danny, reaching back and patting him on the knee. “Don’t worry, we know the head chef. We’ll make sure you don’t get poisoned.”

He shot an amused look at John and asked, “Is he always like this?” and John rolled his eyes and replied, “Welcome to my life, Williams. I finally get rid of one sarcastic little shit,” he pointed at him, and then pointed at Rodney, “And then end up stuck with him for the past almost eight years. Just my luck, huh?”

Danny just grinned and said, “Looks like you have a type, Sheppard,” and then turned back to face the front, while John squirmed in his seat and avoided looking at Rodney as Rodney looked over at him, a tiny line forming between his brows.

God, they couldn’t get to the barbecue place soon enough.

\--

The restaurant wasn’t very crowded, and they had a booth off to the side. Rodney was on the inside, which was both a blessing and a curse. At least John knew that Rodney couldn’t bolt at any second and escape the instant he felt uncomfortable…but on the other side of that, he was forced to be pressed up against him for the next hour or more. Luckily, as soon as they sat down, all of them removed their sport coats, which left a small barrier between his thigh and Rodney’s.

Thank god.

Steve seemed to be the most excited out of the four of them, and John held in a chuckle when Steve (who was on the inside and opposite Rodney) stretched across Danny to motion for a waitress.

Danny looked offended, but Steve ignored his gesturing and said sweetly to the brunette who stopped by the table in a bright orange polo shirt, “Four tequila shots, please, April, and make it your best,” and when he pulled back Danny made a face and John snorted.

“Seriously, Steve? I mean, you don’t, maybe, I don’t know…wanna warm up with some appetizers, first? Booze and no food aren’t the best combination, I’m thinking,” he remarked but his partner just shook his head.

“Danno, _this_ guy,” he pointed at John, “Has dirt on you, I am _certain_ of it, so we are getting buzzed first so I can get some of those stories out of him before you can convince him to keep his mouth shut.”

At this, he rolled his head on his shoulders and John couldn’t help but say, “Heck, anything you wanna know, I’ll tell you right now, no booze required,” and Steve seemed to light up as if it was Christmas morning, and said, “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate your sacrifice,” and John chuckled a second time.

Danny put his elbows on the table and lowered his head to his hands and groaned out, “Dear god, this is the nightmare that just won’t end!”

Rodney glared at John and said, “See this? This is what you do to people, Sheppard. Mainly me,” he added, crossing his arms in front of him, and Steve chuckled and patted Danny on the shoulder and said, “You two definitely remind me of us. I think this’ll be a fun night…”

“Uh, did you say night?” Rodney said in a slightly higher pitched tone. “Excuse me, but we are staying for dinner and that is it,” he tried to emphasize his point with a slicing motion with his hand, but suddenly April was back and putting down four full shot glasses, one in front of each one of them with a cheery smile and a peppy, “Enjoy!” and John tried not to grin as Rodney glared at her as she walked away, obviously blaming her for ruining his declaration.

Without hesitation, he reached for his shot, as did Steve, while the other two lifted theirs reluctantly, and he said, “To new friends,” and Steve echoed, “To new friends!” and they threw back the shots.

After spending hours learning drinking games from Ronon and having to learn how to deal with Athosian moonshine with Teyla’s people, he handled the tequila easily, barely making a face when he swallowed it down. He looked over at Rodney and was silently impressed when he had nearly no reaction as well, and then John remembered: Rodney had an exceedingly high tolerance for alcohol.

It was one of those odd things about the scientist that didn’t quite seem to fit with his personality, a dichotomy, and it always took John a moment to remember it.

Steve motioned a hand at the waitress, and she brought over four more. They each shot them back and then settled a bit deeper into their seats, John casting looks from the corner of his eye at his friend, keeping a careful watch over him, though he knew it wasn’t needed.

He looked back over at Danny, who threw back his shot with a long-suffering sigh, and he smiled.

“So, I mean, I know I’ve got stories about Danny, here, that could definitely probably still get him arrested in his home state of Jersey, but I gotta ask…how the hell did the two of you become partners?” John asked, leaning back and casting a pointed glance at the two of them.

Rodney snorted in the corner and snarked before they could answer, “If they’re anything like us, it’s because Steve touched something he shouldn’t,” and John rolled his eyes.

Danny perked up at that and remarked, “Actually, you’re not too far off on that, Doctor. Let’s just say that there was a crime scene and I found him there and I pulled my gun on him because he pulled his gun on me,” and Steve glared and quickly defended, “Hey, excuse me, but I believe it was the other way around! I went home, heard an intruder, and then you pulled a gun on me, so I had to pull my gun on you!” he exclaimed, and Danny’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, oh, so that…that’s the way you’re gonna play this?” He gave John and Rodney a look and explained, “His _house_ was an _active_ crime scene and I was the one assigned to the case. When I got there, this idiot pulled his gun on me _first,_” he said pointedly, “And then proceeded to threaten to _shoot_ me until I showed him some I.D.”

John snorted and tried to look apologetic, but failed, and couldn’t help but say, “My god, I can _totally_ see that happening to you, Danny. You were always the one between the two of us that got into the stupidest situations,” and Danny looked almost apoplectic.

“Excuse me, _what_?! Me? Uh, oh no, I don’t think so, Sheppard,” he said, waving a finger at him, showing some of the effects of the second shot, sounding a bit giddy, both Steve and Rodney long forgotten in the conversation as he continued to accuse John. “Do you not remember the incident with the twins? Or, or that other time with the mastiffs and the rottweiler? Or, oh, maybe, _maybe_ you remember the time you decided that the history section…of the library…” He snorted, and then John slowly realized what he was about to say, but was too late to cut him off as Danny repeated himself and finished, “…that the history section of the library was the place to go to make sure we didn’t get caught while you and I gave each other blow jobs behind the stacks.”

He snorted again and broke into a short fit of laughter, as if finding it amusing, and Steve just chuckled, but John didn’t have to look over at Rodney to know the look that he was giving him. Rodney had never asked…so John never told. That was how it was supposed to work, after all, right?

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly wishing that he’d taken the inside of the booth so that Rodney could rush past him, out the door, and he could avoid having to sit with him awkwardly through the rest of the meal.

Stupidly, John chanced a glance from the corner of his eye…and was taken aback when Rodney’s only reaction was to nod and say, “Yeah, that sounds like Sheppard, to me,” and then proceeded to wave the waitress over to them and ask, “Okay, now which one of these pieces of meat on the menu has never touched citrus?”

John stared in silence as Rodney argued over semantics with the waitress while Steve and Danny joked and poked fun at him for being so finicky.

Soon enough, though, they came to a satisfying conclusion that had Rodney ordering his own dish and Danny ordering a different dish for the three of them.

The waitress walked away from them with what looked like the beginnings of a headache, and John couldn’t help but quip, “Did you have to go so hard on her, Rodney?”, to which the scientist quickly replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that one of your dreams was to have me carted away from a restaurant in a body bag. Have I deprived you of some sort of fantasy?”

His brain to mouth filter slightly disrupted because of being unexpectedly outed, he replied to the rhetorical question, “I had a slightly _different_ fantasy of you in mind…”

The instant he said it, he regretted it, but apparently everyone else found it amusing, as both Danny and Steve started to chuckle, enjoying every second of the awkward situation.

John tried to glare at Danny, but the look was less than effective as all it did was cause him to break up into more laughter. Feeling annoyed and, to be honest, mostly upset with himself, he quickly excused himself from the booth and headed for the front door, even as he said the word, “Bathroom,” walking away as quickly as he possibly could without breaking into a run. This was _not_ how he wanted the night to go; in fact, it was just about the _last_ thing he’d wanted.

When he stepped outside, however, he realized it was raining.

“Great. Just…great,” he muttered to himself, not bothering to step back inside. It seemed a fitting next step in his evening. If he was lucky, he’d be struck by a bolt of lightning and turned into a nice fried crisp on the ground. Perfect end to a perfect day.

He wasn’t there long when he felt a hand grab at his shoulder and turn him around.

“I’m sorry!” Rodney practically shouted and John rolled his eyes at him and said, “Okay, first of all, you don’t have to yell. And second of all, why are _you_ apologizing? You were there, you saw what happened. That was _all_ me, every single crash and burn…” His voice trailed off and he couldn’t meet Rodney’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on a spot just above his left shoulder. Finally, he added, “I’m sorry I never told you about…you know. Me. I mean,” he quickly explained, “There’s a policy, you know? Asking and telling, and I’m not allowed to say anything or else…you know,” he finished lamely with a wave of his hand. “God, I’m not good at this stuff…”

Rodney just kept on staring at him, also getting just as wet as John was, his hair plastered to his skull and his blue shirt starting to cling all-too enticingly.

And then he said, “Yeah. You really suck at it,” causing John to roll his eyes.

“Gee, way to make a guy feel better about himself, McKay,” he drawled, lashing out in the only way he knew how: verbally. “I mean, it’s not like I just got outed in front of you five minutes ago in the middle of a restaurant by, out of all people, my ex-boyfriend! My _only_ ex-boyfriend, by the way,” he quickly added, taking a step towards Rodney, “In case you haven’t realized, they kinda frown on this in the military, and if you’re even _thinking _about telling Woolsey when we get back, so help me, I’ll--”

He was abruptly cut off by Rodney moving one step closer and pressing a messy, inelegant kiss to his lips, his fingers tangling in the wet front of his shirt.

John didn’t even hesitate to sink into the kiss and take it over, turning it from an uncomfortable, awkward angle, to something softer, smoother, and with much more depth. He wasn’t sure how long they stood out there in the rain in front of the restaurant making out like teenagers, but it was long enough that he knew that when his jeans dried, there would most definitely be chafing.

After a while, he pulled back and tried not to chuckle as Rodney’s lips tried to chase after his.

They took a moment to catch their breath, and John asked, “So…I’m guessing that you like me?”

Rodney seemed annoyed by the question and answered in a biting tone, “No, I was kissing you and making a huge romantic gesture in the rain because I’m _not_ interested in you! You idiot, what do you think?” he added, hitting the back of his hand against John’s chest, and John smirked.

“I think you’re a closet romantic who’s seen one-too-many rom coms with Keller and Teyla,” he answered, and the scientist gave him a look, his mouth twisted up as if he was about to spit out another stinging, sarcastic zinger…but he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a soft sigh and said, “I was going to build up to this, you know? Last night was part one of my three-week plan,” and John’s eyes widened as he realized what he meant by his words.

“Wait…you’re saying that last night was a _date_?”

“Our first date,” Rodney replied, sounding annoyed. “And you didn’t even realize it! Great, just great. I’m gonna have to go back and change the entire outline and rearrange everything that I had planned! I spent _months_ trying to figure this out, leaving hints that would get you to take us to Hawaii, making sure it would fall during peak celestial activity season, bought an entire new wardrobe to get you to pay attention to me, and now it’s all gone to shit. I just ruined--!”

John cut him off.

“You didn’t ruin a thing, Rodney.” He then reached out and slipped one finger into a belt loop and tugged him closer and said with an arched eyebrow, “In fact, I’d say your plan worked out great.”

And he smirked.

He then watched as a slow, smug grin crossed the scientist’s lips as he realized just what John was saying and the colonel braced himself for Rodney’s inevitable stroking of his own ego…and he wasn’t disappointed as the younger man said, “Hey…it did work, didn’t it? Actually, it worked so well, I got to kiss you on our second date. Fastest I’ve ever made a move,” he said, sounding even more insufferably smug, and John quickly took him down a peg with, “Considering we’ve been flirting for, oh, I don’t know…about eight years? I don’t think you’re setting any personal records…”

Now John was smug, but Rodney didn’t seem to mind.

Instead, Rodney reached down and grabbed John’s wrist and pulled him back into the restaurant and politely asked April as she walked past them for a couple of towels. As soon as they’d dried off, they went back to the table, where Steve and Danny seemed to have forgotten that they were missing and were busy arguing about baseball versus football.

“It’s not a sport!” Danny practically shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands. “It’s running around playing a glorified game of keep-away with stupid looking helmets! Baseball is an art! You can’t just--”

“Excuse me?” interrupted Steve, an incredulous look on his face, pointing a finger at his own chest. “Keep-away? Keep…keep-away? Football is about strategy, it’s about outthinking your opponent! It’s about, about…about working as a team to take down a common enemy who--”

“Wants to keep you from getting the ball!”

John snorted and followed Rodney and sat back down in the booth and said, interrupting them both, “While this is very interesting, and I do have several strong points to make about football…” Danny glared, and Rodney snorted. “…I’m kind of eager to taste this best barbecue on the island. So…how about we skip the sports talk and you guys tell us what kind of cases you solve on your top secret 5-0 police force, and we tell you a highly-edited, but still very compelling narrative of what we’ve been doing the past few years…”

Danny gave him a once over and then said with a glint in his eye, “Finally figured out the doctor was flirting with you, didn’t you?” and John shot him a look. It didn’t seem to affect him as he leaned back and drawled, “Yeah, I remember what that was like. Getting you to realize I was into you took me _weeks_,” and Rodney made a noise.

“Ha! Try three years,” he retorted, and John turned and looked at him…and then he realized.

He looked at him and said softly, “You mean…the…the incident with…the virus…?”

He couldn’t say anything more than that, but Rodney nodded, and John knew. When Rodney had been losing his mind…_that_ was when he knew that he was in love with John. With John, it had been right around that time, as well. Feeling more emotional than he cared to be in a public place, he reached under the table and grabbed Rodney’s hand, squeezing it tight, and Rodney squeezed back.

John looked back over at Steve and Danny and it suddenly hit him like the bolt of lightning never had, that those two had just started their three years. He was pretty damn certain of it.

Feeling a warmth in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time, he held onto Rodney’s hand a bit tighter.

It was worth the wait.


End file.
